Black and grey tattoo of two roses above an inverted triangle with dangling geometric drops, in dotwork and linework style, on a forearm.

Roses and inverted triangle on a forearm

Botanical · Forearm · Black and grey · Photo

Two roses sit above a large outlined inverted triangle, with leaves and a column of small diamonds, circles and arrowheads hanging below it on fine dangling lines. The roses are outlined in bold black lines and shaded with stippled dotwork, while the triangle is left mostly unshaded. The image is a close, straight-on photo of the forearm on a plain white background, with only black and grey ink visible.

Botanical Geometric Dotwork Forearm Rose Triangle Leaves Diamond Circle Arrow

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A story inspired by this tattoo · fiction

Dear Ruth,

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You will not believe the state of Aunt Joan's roses this June. Both bushes came into bloom the same week, which Mr Pell next door says has not happened since 1962, and I took it as a sign that the feud was finished. Ada and I had been hauling clippings over the hedge since Easter for the wedding, and by Friday she had stopped pretending she was only passing through my gate with a trowel.

The bride wanted the chapel dressed with the old brass charm curtain from the vestry, the one with the little diamonds and arrowheads that rings when the door opens. Somebody had to hang it. Ada climbed the stepladder with a plumb line in her teeth and tapped a triangle into the plaster above the altar, point down, so the curtain would fall true from the crossbeam. Nobody had asked her to do it. She said a level thing ought to be drawn by someone who has measured a hedge in the rain.

When the bride came up the aisle, the charms swung and chimed, and the two bunches of roses on the sill, one red and one nearly white, were tied with the same green ribbon. Ada and Joan stood at the back shoulder to shoulder and did not look at one another once. Then Joan leaned over and murmured that the triangle was crooked, and Ada said it was not, and that was the most they have spoken in thirty years.

Write soon, and bring your good gloves.

Love, Margaret